


sing me to sleep

by chemicalroses



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Angst, Depression, Gratsu - Freeform, M/M, Mentions of other characters - Freeform, Modern, Sad, Some Fluff, Suicide, gray is sad, im sorry, natsu dies, suicidal gray
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 15:57:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4442036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chemicalroses/pseuds/chemicalroses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>.</p><p>In the end, they didn’t talk about death as much as they did superpowers. But that was okay. Natsu never was one for depressing situations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sing me to sleep

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this is short and probably awful but I felt angsty so...

_It was an unfortunate accident._

Gray wanted to slit the throat of whoever told him next. Those five words were the bane of his existence, the reason why anyone and everyone was a bother to him—even _Erza_ , who had quickly adapted her way of speaking in order to rebuild some sort of friendship. While he appreciated her efforts, it made no difference; not yet.

No one besides Erza ever tried talking to him, but that was okay, because the only person Gray wanted— _needed_ —to talk to was now nothing more than a box of ashes.

.

They had talked about death before. It was a serious conversation—both of them were sober—that happened a few hours after the death of Gray’s father.

“It’ll be okay,” Natsu had said softly as Gray bit his lip and screwed his eyes shut, “I know it doesn’t feel that way now, but one day, it’ll be okay,”

Gray couldn’t remember what had happened between that and a few minutes later; Natsu had ended up so _completely_ off topic and Gray didn’t have the heart to tell him how tired he felt, especially since the younger one was trying so hard to cheer him up.

“…because he’s just so cool, ya’know? Bursting into flames and not getting burned? It’s the dream,”

He narrated his story with big hand motions and a smile so obviously exaggerated for Gray, who listened quietly, because Natsu’s stories always entertained him.

“Yeah, I could see you as Johnny from Fantastic Four,”

Natsu had smiled and Gray felt his heart twitch in his chest.

At the time, he didn’t realize how fitting his choice really was. Natsu was a bonfire. Big presence, powerful, beautiful—and it was a shame that Gray noticed only when his flames trickled into the glow of a candle, and then faded altogether, leaving behind only wax trails and smoke. And, of course, ashes.

But Gray didn’t bother thinking of Natsu as a dwindling flame, because at that point he was still burning bright, and explaining why he’d want to be Iceman from X-Men was a lot more interesting.

In the end, they didn’t talk about death as much as they did superpowers. But that was okay. Natsu never was one for depressing situations.

.

The ring of Gray’s cell phone made him nauseous, ever since he had gotten the news. It almost surprised him; he never thought he could hate a Fall Out Boy song, yet whenever it played he wanted to beat the thing to a pulp.

(He almost did this once, except before he could, Lucy walked in and told him to just change the song. Gray wanted to yell, to punch a hole in the wall and explain that it wasn’t just the _song_ but noise in _general_ that set him off, but she had already fled the room with a frightened look and he didn’t have enough energy to chase after her.)

The reason why he despised the song was because those lyrics—the faint opening of _Fourth of July_ —were the ones that introduced the beginning of the end.

Ever since then when he heard the song, he couldn’t remember why he had chosen it as his ringtone in the first place. He could only see the cold face of the man he loved strapped into an unrecognizable car, in the midst of an accident that wasn’t even his fault.

The dread had erased the once lively memory of Natsu singing that song, loud and proud in the passenger seat of that same car, lit up by a crescent moon and street lights. It even erased the flutter in Gray’s stomach when Natsu had looked over with the stars in his eyes, asking if they could play it again.

.

“Your head’s in the clouds, Natsu,” Gray had often said, at times when the other was too caught up in one thing.

“Is that bad?” He would ask in return.

Gray would always pretend to ponder the question, humoring him until Natsu’s head dropped to one side in confusion.

“Maybe not for you, but I _miss_ you when you’re up there,” He’d say, playful, “Come back,”

And he didn’t need to ask twice, because Natsu always came back; and if one day he didn’t, Gray would join him without a second thought. It scared him when Natsu died, because even though the clouds weren’t metaphorical anymore, he’d still do the same thing.

.

It was painful to get up every day.

There were two numb seconds, where he felt clean—refreshed, even—before the ever so crushing weight of reality hit him harder than he’d expect. It was during these two seconds where he’d roll on to one side and expect to see Natsu asleep, snoring cutely, with his bright eyes closed and his beating heart playing rhythmically in his chest.

He’d expect those eyes to flutter open, to gaze right into his and then crinkle at the sides when he yawned. _“G’morning,”_ He would murmur and snuggle into Gray’s chest. They’d lay there for what seemed like hours, not caring about responsibility or time.

But then that moment would end and Gray would be thrown back into the whirlwind of reality—otherwise known as an inescapable black void, or the hell that was his life.

.

People would ask for years on end if it was drugs that sent him off the edge. The answer was no, and always had been no—Gray had never done any drugs, not including his own personal madness, which seemed to have the same effect.

The truth was that he didn’t know how he ended up at the edge in the first place, only that one night during a walk to clear his head; his feet led him to the crumbling bridge a few miles east. It was pretty, Gray had thought. An unsteady link held over rushing water by ribbons. It reminded him of his own life, except his ribbons were sliced through the middle and beyond repair.

He took inconsistent steps towards the edge, breaths shallow and hands bleeding from the neglected cracks in his skin, which didn’t matter—not when an invisible flame was reaching to him, _for_ him, with a familiar warmth and gentle touch. It was kind, this flame. It was home.

 _“I’m in the clouds, Gray,”_ Natsu’s voice shook him and his heart jumped out of his weak chest, _“It’s lonely up here,”_

The whisper was shaking, unstable— _broken_ —and Gray didn’t like it; he shoved his freezing hands over his ears to try and drown it out.

_“I miss you, Gray, help me,”_

His legs carried him up to the very edge, where the earth was below him and he had all of the power.

_“Help me, Gray, please, help me,”_

Thick tears streamed down his pale skin and he couldn’t breathe, all he could do was buckle over and hold himself together so he wouldn’t fall apart.

_“Gray, come to me, please, you need to help me, **Gray** ,”_

And then the wind pushed a little too strongly and the bitter air stung his eyes a little too much; _“Stay, please, stay”_ the shadows in his head begged, but Gray didn’t have the patience to listen. Not anymore. There were too many voices, and he couldn’t remember which one was his own.

 “ _It’s better this way_ ”

The words caught in his throat as he stepped off of the edge, and for a moment, he thought the wind would catch him.

In a way, he was glad it didn’t.


End file.
